Front Runner by Felix Francis Page B

back.
    Dave had been extremely fortunate not to have had half a ton of horse landing right on top of him.
    The only reason I was slightly suspicious was that, in my opinion, there had been no need to put in the extra stride in the first place. Again, it was the proven consummate skill of the jockey that made me think that either Dave had not been concentrating properly or he had caused the horse to fall on purpose.
    But falls of that nature were almost always nasty, so why anyone would cause one intentionally was beyond me. Maybe it had been out of desperation not to win. Such was the severity of the fall that, according to the stewards’ official report of the race, Newton Creek had lain, winded and motionless, on the ground for nearly five minutes. The spectators in the stands must have feared the worst before the horse finally rose to his feet and walked away.
    I leaned back in my chair and surveyed the notes I had made.
    Was one of these races really fixed? The more I studied them, the less certain I became that anything untoward had occurred at all. But, then, Dave Swinton’s skill on a horse was such that it was never going to be easy to spot an intentional indiscretion on his part.
    â€”
    D ETECTIVE S ERGEANT J AGGER from the Thames Valley Police called me at home at seven o’clock on Monday evening, but he wasn’t able to give me much of an update. In fact, he was really only calling to tell me that the police investigation into my attempted murder had been placed on hold pending their inquiries into the vehicle fire at Otmoor.
    â€œThe human remains in the car have now been removed and taken to the morgue at John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford for an autopsy. There is still no word as yet on an official identification. There will have to be DNA tests.”
    â€œI’m amazed that any DNA would survive that inferno.”
    â€œYou’d be surprised,” he said. “I know of an instance a couple of years ago where residual DNA testing was carried out on the ashes in an urn of a fully cremated body. To test for paternity, can you believe?”
    â€œDid it work?”
    â€œYes, it did. Seems they were able to extract enough material from the dental pulp of a tooth that hadn’t completely disintegrated.”
    â€œSo you’re confident they will identify the person in the burning Mercedes?”
    â€œI’m certain of it. DNA has already been collected from Mr. Swinton’s parents for comparison.”
    â€œSo you are assuming, then, that it was Dave Swinton in the car?”
    There was a significant pause on the other end of the line.
    â€œAre you suggesting that it wasn’t?”
    â€œI’m keeping an open mind on the matter,” I said. “I feel that Dave Swinton was the most unlikely candidate for suicide I’veever come across. So I just wondered if it might have been someone else.”
    â€œThat’s mere speculation.”
    â€œMaybe, but Dave Swinton
had
tried to kill me. Why did he do that? Was it to stop me telling anyone about him deliberately losing a race? But why would he bother if he’d already planned to kill himself?”
    â€œHe could have been protecting his reputation for posterity.”
    â€œDon’t be stupid. His reputation would be in tatters anyway. Better to be known as a race fixer than a murderer.”
    â€œHe might have decided to kill himself only after he had left you to die in the sauna, by which time it was too late to go back.”
    â€œNow who’s speculating?”
    â€œBut who else could it be?” he asked.
    â€œDon’t you have any other missing persons on your files?”
    â€œSeveral. But none who have the slightest connection with David Swinton’s Mercedes. And if it wasn’t him in the car, then where is he?”
    It was a good question.

7
    O n Tuesday morning, I caught the nine-thirty train from Kings Cross to Newark and then took a taxi to Southwell